When he was a small boy, Barry loved playing with the toy farm his father made for him. He tended to the small cows, sheep and pigs, drove the tractor, mucked out the stables and fed the horses.
Sometimes his father would join him, but after his parents divorce he sat playing on his own.
Being from a working class family, Barry knew he would never be able to have a real farm. He was also put off by the hard work.
It had taken him a few years, but now he had the farm he dreamed of.
He worked in the abandoned warehouse as Farmer Barry, tending to his collection of stuffed animals. The college course in taxidermy and a knack for livestock rustling had given him the means to create his life-size playset.
Lifting the stuffed fox outside the fence to protect the sheep, Barry sighed. The end of another busy day. He tapped his father on the head. His dad’s glazed, still eyes didn’t respond, just like when he used to play with Barry and his toy farm.
‘Goodnight, Dad,’ said Barry. ‘See you in the morning.’
He flicked the light off.
Written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction. Write a story of around 200 words based on the photo prompt given (above). Hosted by Al Forbes. For more details visit HERE.
To read more stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.
IAIN KELLY 
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